Majora's Mask's Origins
by Hylian Harmony
Summary: What is Majora's Mask exactly? Is it just a mask or something more? It seems to have a need to destroy and yet no motive is evident. Everything and everyone has a story if you delve deep enough. This is Majora's story.


**"****Majora's Mask's Origins"**

In a premature land known as Termina there once lived a tribe. This tribe adopted the name the Fahrice and created the first settlement in Ikana Canyon. They decided to name it Ikana village in respect to the canyon's given name.

The Fahrice were a tribe of experienced survivors and craftspeople. While Hylians worshipped their golden goddesses the people of Ikana village instead looked to the Sun and Moon Spirits for guidance. In their ancient legends the Sun and Moon Spirits had waged a war for dominion over the skies. During this battle life on earth had been consumed in chaos. Eventually the Sun Spirit prevailed and brought light and life to the many denizens of the earth. Glaring in disgust at the earth and its pathetic inhabitants, the Moon Spirit wished to forever plunge the land into darkness. Yet never had the opportunity to accomplish this since the Sun Spirit always seemed to have a way of showing its smiling face again. Bent on revenge the Moon Spirit forced the Sun Spirit away at dusk and took reign of the skies. This never posed a problem for the Sun Spirit for when dawn crept forth from the horizon and brightened the sky the Sun Spirit then had enough power to regain its throne.

However, there were times when the Moon Spirit leaped on top of the Sun Spirit in an attempt to succeed at its dark deed. To aid their ancient savior the tribe crafted masks in hopes of warding off the Moon Spirit by scaring it away.

The tribes' people were recognized by their distinct auburn hair and reflective black eyes. Together they constructed a temple out of stone as a shrine to the Sun and Moon Spirits. On the exterior they carved their interpretation of the Moon Spirit, acknowledging that it was present but was not their source of life. Their view of the Sun Spirit was carved in the interior, symbolizing their gratitude to the spirit and showing that it was the center of their world. After the carvers, which were the men of the tribe, carved out the stone, the women painted some of their carvings inside the temple with their careful precision and artistic gift. There was a reason for their separate jobs.

The Fahrice had another legend in their history stating that a child savvy in both arts would be their downfall. In fear they divided the jobs. It was deemed by the chief that the men were to be carvers since they were stronger and the women were to be painters since they were delicate.

None of the Fahrice had a problem with this golden rule, all that is, except for one. Oni, the chieftain of the tribe, had a ten year old daughter named Majora. Majora was very beautiful for her age and looked much like her deceased mother. She possessed shining amber hair and gleaming golden eyes along with the natural Fahrice pale skin and ruby red lips. Beads were woven into the ends of her long flowing hair and she sported the traditional purple of her tribe with a silk-like dress with long puffed out sleeves. Golden accessories accented her neck and waist. Mustard yellow leggings adorned her legs and purple boots that curved slightly at the toes hugged her small feet.

Majora was taught the art of painting by her best friend Jabez's mother, Abra. She enjoyed mixing and experimenting with colors as well as painting designs like the tribe's signature moon and sun symbol. Yet, she often times found herself peering over Jabez's shoulder, much to his annoyance, as he carved a piece of wood into something beautiful. Majora longed to make beautiful things and not just paint them.

One day she voiced this to Jabez as they were searching for supplies to make paint, "Hey Jabez…I was thinking maybe….possibly…could you…would you…teach me how to carve?"

Jabez stopped dead in his tracks, a look of shock frozen on his face. "Wha- are you crazy?! No Majora! Has your father ever told you the legends?" He sputtered in disbelief.

"Well of _course _I have heard the legends," Majora replied rolling her eyes, "Do not tell me you honestly believe them."

"Of course I do! Everyone else does," Jabez crossed his arms over his chest indignantly.

"I do not. Legends are not real Jabez. They are just stories made up by someone a long long time ago to mess with people's minds," Majora explained, hopping on top of a small bolder and balancing on it carefully with her arms extended to stabilize herself.

"Says who? If they were just stories then your father would have told us long ago," Jabez argued.

"Not if he believes in them," Majora sighed, "Which he does. You are all fools if you think it is real. I do not want to be a painter, nor a carver. I wish to be both."

"Well, you cannot. What would you even call yourself anyway? What do you call a person that can do both? I would call you a Downfall," Jabez smirked.

"I would call myself a….. Creator," Majora smiled dreamily at the setting sun in the distance.

"You are delusional. Fortunately, I am not a tattletale. Now come on. We should head back. Darkness is falling," urged Jabez.

Majora pouted but slid off of the boulder to face her auburn haired, coal eyed, friend, "So, will you teach me?"

"No," Jabez glowered defiantly .Majora pursed her ruby red lips in aggravation and let out a breath of air before pushing past Jabez and trudging back toward the village, Jabez at her heels encouraging her to go faster since it was dangerous to be outside when darkness fell.

The children reached their homes, which were constructed out of clay and stone, and bid farewell to each other. That night as Majora laid in her bed an idea crept into her mind as they often do, and she sat up. Her father was sleeping on the bed across from her snoring slightly.

A smile crept onto her face. She quietly slid out of bed and her bare feet touched down on the smooth clay floor. Majora made her bed in such a fashion that it appeared that she was still dozing in it, and then snuck over to her father's worktable.

If Jabez refused to teach her, she would teach herself. She silently grabbed some tools, yet not too many that her father would miss terribly, and dropped them into a sack. She also swiped a block of wood and then slipped unnoticed out of the house.

Majora, barefoot and in her white nightgown, snuck to the entrance of the temple. She sat down and spread her materials out before her. Though she had little to no idea what she was doing it turned out she'd picked up on some tips from constantly observing Jabez and her father. As the moon began its descent back to earth Majora had successfully carved a flower out of the small block of wood.

"I could keep doing this," Majora silently realized, "I could come here every other night and carve. I should carve a mask for the hexing ritual!"

Elated, Majora quickly stood and brushed off her nightgown. She gathered up her carving and materials, tossed them all into the sack she'd had the sense to bring with her, and then hurried back to her house. When she arrived home her father was still sleeping soundly. She smiled at this and stashed her secret under the mess of clothes in her closet. Then she scrambled into bed and let sleep take her.

Over the next month every other night Majora crept out of her humble village and to the front of the temple to carve her mask. During the day she continuously observed her best friend and father while they carved as well as learned new painting techniques from Abra. No one suspected her, not even Jabez who thought she'd forgotten about her wish to be a creator and had accepted the fact that she could never carve.

Finally after a month of hard work Majora completed carving her masterpiece. Instead of bringing her carving tools the following night, she brought her painting supplies. The mask was heart shaped with two spikes, resembling horns, on top of each curve. Four spikes were on the sides. Large, curious eyes were carved into it as well as some small breathing holes in the middle of the mask. Majora immediately got to work on the eyes. They, she decided, were to be the mask's main feature, for she believed her golden eyes were the reason why she could understand so much opposed to the rest of her tribe who had black eyes.

She painted a black dot ringed with green, then merged into black on each eye. Surrounding that was a striking yellow that could make the sun look dull for once, and around that to the end of the eyeball was an orange-red color. The body of the mask itself was purple with black, green, yellow, orange, and red accents painted on with the utmost care and precision.

Majora held up her mask for inspection. A tiny smile danced on her lips. She was a creator. She glanced up at the moon. "It is not evil, just misunderstood," Majora decided. Carefully, she hid the mask, wet with paint, under a bush silently vowing that she'd return for it the night of the hexing ritual.

The ecstatic young girl gathered up her supplies and left to return home while moonlight weaved its way past the shrubbery to shine on the forbidden mask.

Over the next few days and nights Majora was restless. Sleep wasn't easily blessed upon her eyes and when it was the sleep was short and fitful, filled with strange dreams that seemed to have a reoccurring theme. In each one she was left feeling guilty and alone. She brushed it off though, figuring it was just nerves.

Finally the night of the hexing ritual arrived. It was the only time when the tribe was unafraid of going out a night. Naturally, everyone had their own job. The boys all prepared masks for this special occasion, getting their mothers, sisters, or, if they were older, their girlfriends, to paint the masks for them. All the boys in the tribe wore masks and looked towards the sky showing off their "faces" to the moon. The men of the tribe sometimes wore masks but their main purpose was to keep the bonfire burning as the women danced around it. The girls sang a haunting song with their high, lilting voices meant to intimidate the moon.

The tribe's chieftain always stood overlooking the proceedings wearing a mask of his own and playing music to accompany the singing girls and dancing women. Majora normally led the other girls in singing their song and even had a solo herself. Tonight though, Majora would not be doing the job everyone expects her to. "This is it," Majora thought in anticipation of the ritual. She usually loathed these rituals and having to sing. She didn't have a bad singing voice. It was actually quite pretty, but she preferred singing in a group than alone.

She bunched up the ends of her white dress nervously. She had retrieved her mask earlier and hidden it in the many layers of her dress. To do this successfully she had to time it correctly. If her timing was off, she'd be caught and reprimanded for sure. Not to mention she wouldn't get a chance to show off her creation.

Majora glanced at her father. He did not yet have his mask on, in fact no one did. They were to be presented for the first time at the ritual and then displayed in the chieftain's house later. She had no clue what his mask looked like but she looked forward to seeing it. Her father was great at making masks, the best in her opinion, and always had some new interesting idea to share. His overall appearance was a skinny man, his back hunched slightly due to years of being bent over a table working. Despite that he always seemed to be smiling, even when he was mad or sad she could still see a grin, however small, painted on his face as if it were permanent. She sometimes wondered if he was hiding behind a mask she couldn't see ever since her mother died. Although she would never know since she was a newborn at the time.

Behind them the rest of the tribe followed like loyal dogs. All the girls were in a white dress of some kind along with black boots. The boys were garbed in white shirts and shorts with blue accents on the hems, their feet bare. Then men, such as her father, wore white tunics, black leggings, and white boots. Lastly the women wore white dresses with light maroon designs woven meticulously into the hems.

Before she knew it Majora found herself in the midst of the ritual. Her father and the boys had long ago donned their masks. The bonfire was burning strong and the moon was blocking out the sun. Girls stood in front of her singing from the cue she had given them. Her solo wouldn't come for some time and these girls had done it countless times before. They could do the song without her or so she hoped.

When no one was looking she slipped inconspicuously out of sight and discarded her long white dress and black boots. Underneath her dress she had worn the garb of the boys so when people saw her slip in they'd think that it was just a boy late to the ritual. She tied back her hair into a low bun so it appeared she had short hair. Majora uncovered her mask from the folds of her dress and picked it up. Its large eyes stared blankly back at her. She could've sworn she saw a glimmer of light emit from them for a split second but then it was gone. She shrugged it off, blaming it on poor lighting.

"There is nothing to be scared of Majora," she silently told herself, "Go on and show the rest that there is nothing to fear." Encouraged by her small pep talk she took a deep breath, put on her mask and slipped quietly into the small crowd of boys. There weren't many, just four. Jabez, and three other boys that never liked to play with her claiming that her eyes were those of an evil entity. When they did play with her they would play at a big tree and played a game they called "Good Guys vs. Bad Guys". They always made her the bad guy, much to her chagrin, while they ran around ganging up on her.

One wore a mask that resembled a three eyed spider with poison dripping out of its mouth and oversized pincers. The next was very colorful with a mean face carved out of it and many tribal markings painted on it. Another was of what she supposed was a red snake with beady orange eyes and a gaping mouth open wide to show off its imposing fangs. The last boy, Jabez, had on a mask that resembled a ram in a way and had a mummified face seemingly trapped inside moaning.

They didn't even spare her so much as a glance for which she was slightly grateful since it wouldn't give them time to ponder over the fact that there were only four boys in the village so where did a fifth one come from? Her father was also busy enchanted by the dancers and concentrating on playing music while he had his mask over his face. The mask was amazing as usual even if it seemed a bit bizarre. It looked like the face of a young man frowning slightly with eye shaped holes cut out so the wearer could see. Slightly under and to the side of each hole was painted two red lines. Auburn eyebrows turned the mask's expression into a neutral one. On the mask's forehead was painted a blue diamond shape but only the bottom half of the large gem was visible while the rest was obscured by the mass of white hair atop its head.

Majora smiled to herself. She knew what, or rather who, that mask represented. When she was younger her father fabricated stories of a man called Fierce Deity. He had told her that he was a man that had died long ago during the war between the Sun and Moon Spirits. He was caught in the crossfire as the two clashed, and while it killed him it also changed him. The Sun Spirit revived him feeling sympathy for the unfortunate man who had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Life was breathed into his body and he arose wondering how he could ever repay the spirit who had saved a mortal life such as his. His appearance was changed for his eyes had no pupils and his hair was white as snow.

He could no longer lead a normal life due to his appearance so he vowed to help the Sun Spirit eradicate the Moon Spirit. Together Fierce Deity and the Sun Spirit joined forces, one a divine being, the other a mere mortal with a twisted sword in hand, and drove the Moon Spirit away from the land.

While her tribe's legends seemed fake and cheap, this story somehow captivated her. She was pulled away from her thoughts as she realized the song was nearing her solo and not once had she looked to the sky yet. Majora upturned her face to glare back at the moon. "See? Nothing has happened. The legends really are fake!" Majora thought in excitement to herself.

In her giddiness she failed to realize that the singing had ceased and the music followed soon after. She had missed her solo. Majora didn't panic. It meant nothing. In fact, if the legends were fake then there was no reason for these hexing rituals. She tore her gaze away from the sky and looked at the rest of her tribe who had stopped whatever they had been doing and were all staring in horror at the place where she was supposed to be.

"Where is Majora?" her father's voice rumbled through the silence like thunder. Everyone looked to one another and back but they were all just as confused.

"Hey! Who are you?" exclaimed the youngest boy suddenly turning to her, "There are only four boys in the village, and I do not remember ever laying eyes on that mask before!"

"You are right. There are only four boys in the village. I am Majora and I am a Creator." Majora announced first addressing the boy but then she turned, gradually getting louder and spoke to her entire tribe, "The legends we have lived on for so long are fake! I am a girl and yet I managed to create this mask on my face all by myself! That is right; I carved it _and_ painted it and look nothing happened!"

Collective gasps erupted from the mouths of her audience. Many things happened at once. So close in succession that it is difficult to tell which occurred first. The ground quaked beneath everyone's feet and screams sounded as people fell through fissures in the earth. Majora went to remove her mask so she could see better but found it stuck. She tugged at it desperately willing it to let go. The eyes of Majora's Mask glowed a bright yellow and illuminated the area that had been plunged into darkness as a result of the bonfire being extinguished.

"Jabez! Help me get it off!" shrieked Majora clawing at the forbidden mask attached to her face. Jabez had scattered with the other boys, but when he heard his friend's cries for help he hesitated wondering if he should turn back. He stopped running and turned around cupping his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice.

"You are my friend Majora and by that logic, I should help you. Yet you did not listen when I told you it is a bad idea. Now just look at what you have done. Is this what you wanted? I hope so because it is what you got! You are a Downfall and I will not be dragged down with you!" Jabez shouted as the world fell apart around them.

Majora could not believe her ears. He was supposed to be her friend and he was abandoning her because she made a mistake? "Jabez!" she called desperately after him but he just kept running away. No. She would not let him abandon her. Anger coursed through her like a raging river and she balled her hands into fists feeling as a strange power gathered in them.

She sent out her power towards Jabez and the rest of the boys that were standing near her father. Jabez's eyes widened as the strange magic was making a beeline for him. Majora's father pushed Jabez out of the way at the last second and took the blow himself. He was blown back and slammed down hard into the ground while Jabez and the other boys witnessed it in horror. When the dust that was kicked up from the impact began to clear her father's figure was not seen walking out of the dust.

Instead it was of another man. When the dust cloud diminished facial features could be seen. He looked exactly like Fierce Deity except he wasn't wearing a mask. In his hand he held a double helix sword. His eyes were completely white, his face expressionless and his hair white as snow.

The boys stared in wonder and disbelief at what their chieftain had become. Then back at the girl that they used to know. She was floating slightly off the ground, fire surrounding her body but not seeming to hurt her. Majora let out another blast of the same transforming magic at the dumbfounded group but Oni was quick as well and used his new sword to deflect the blow and send it flying back at the monster his daughter had become.

Majora let out a high pitched squeal as the magic hit her head on and she was sucked into the mask. As soon as this happened the fissures that had opened during the quake closed and the ground was stable once again. Everything was still.

"Is…is it over?" one of the boys whispered as if he spoke any louder he would somehow cause the chaos to return.

"Yes, the worst…is behind us. We must get rid of that mask and seal it away so it cannot cause anymore senseless destruction," Oni replied staring at the now lifeless piece of wood that was on the ground.

"But what about you Chief? She turned you into your own mask! How will we reverse it?" Jabez voiced his concern.

"Do not fret about that now. Show some concern for the rest of our tribe," Oni said gesturing to the now empty place. Not one other tribe member was to be seen. They all bowed their heads.

Inside Majora's Mask Majora was trapped. "Let me out someone please! I could not control it! You got me mad!" she yelled into the endless black void that she was floating in as if someone were there to hear her, "You misunderstand me just as you do the moon!" She sobbed and buried her face in her hands. Jabez was right. She was a Downfall. A Creator that destroyed her own people unintentionally.

"I wish I was someplace else. If I have to be trapped here for all eternity then I do not want to be alone in some dark void," Majora whined. "What if there was grass?" She mused touching where she supposed the ground would be. To her surprise green sprung up around her and met a pitch black sky on the horizon. She stood up a smile inching onto her face. "And a bright blue sky too!" she exclaimed running forward and spreading her arms wide as if in an attempt to hug the sky. A gorgeous blue sky was her reward.

Majora laughed and spun around. "And… oh! And a tree! A big green tree that will never die!" she added pointing to the horizon where a small sampling grew and continued growing bigger and bigger until it was huge with its leafy branches reaching for something it could never have. She hurried over to her creation and leaned against it.

"Oh! But it is so lonely here. I know! If I can create all this then surely I can have Jabez and the other boys too!" Majora reasoned.

"What if… Jabez and the other boys were right…here?" Majora said slowly hoping it would work and pointing to a patch of grass a little bit in front of her.

Jabez and the others appeared in an alarmed pile in front of her. They were still wearing their masks also. "Welcome Moon Children," Majora giggled spreading her arms wide in greeting, "Would you like to play?"

"Play?!" exclaimed Jabez incredulous, "Majora, you just doomed our tribe and you want to play? The answer is no." The other boys demonstrated their agreement by crossing their arms over their chests and nodding defiantly.

Majora's face fell and her eyes narrowed though you could not see it due to the mask on her face. "Alright then. You want to play that way huh? If I cannot take off my mask then neither can you," Majora stated crossing her arms in satisfaction. Panicked, the boys futilely tried to remove their masks but they found that they were stuck on as if someone had purposely put glue around the edges of the mask, so it would stick to their faces when they put it on.

Oni stared in bewilderment at the place where the four boys had once stood. Now he was alone. The last remaining member of his tribe. Yet he really knew that he himself was also trapped. He could not rest until he knew that his daughter could not harm anyone or anything else. Judging by what just happened to his remaining tribe members she still had power within that mask, however limited it was, if someone were to put on that mask and give her the energy to destroy and exact her revenge he knew that it would result in much more than just the demise of a tribe.

First thing was first, he had to get free of the curse that Majora had cast on him. He sat at the piano that he had used to play music during the ritual and played an old song that was said to be blessed by the Sun Spirit called the Song of Healing. At the same moment Majora was sitting against her tree alone as the boys played with one another and made a big deal of leaving her out of their fun. She felt her powers dwindling. She would only have enough energy to make one more creation and she knew exactly what it was.

She felt guilty for turning her father into Fierce Deity and she wanted him here with her. He certainly wouldn't ignore her like the others and she hadn't the strength to send them back. Majora stood and spoke, choosing her words carefully, "What if Fierce Deity were here? Then I would never be lonely."

As she said these words Oni finished the Song of Healing and the mask fell from his face but before it hit the ground it disappeared in the same fashion that the boys had. Majora gasped as a mask fell into her hands. She turned it over. It was her father's Fierce Deity mask. She let out a yell of exasperation. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! She wanted her father; not a mask! She stowed it away in her back pocket anyway and sat back down in a tornado of emotions.

"Do not worry. You will get your revenge," she consoled herself, "I just need more energy is all. Some fool to put on my mask, but it cannot be just anyone. It must be someone who has hurt in them too. Someone who has been betrayed and ignored and alone. Someone that is misunderstood too. That is all I have to wait for, then I can bring down the moon since they think it is evil too and we will be what they think we are. We will consume everything."

Oni was just about to pick up the mask from the ground but it disappeared mysteriously. He felt in the place it once was thinking it might have just turned invisible but no. Majora's Mask was gone. "Whenever there is a meeting…a parting is sure to follow. However, that parting need not last forever….Whether a parting be forever or merely a short time…That is up to you," he whispered the last words of his late wife.

Oni was changed by that strange magic his daughter had thrown at him. He was trapped and could not move on until he completed the task that had fallen to him. So he gathered his old masks and everyone else's that he could find, attached it to a huge pack, and became a traveling salesman, secretly searching for the most dangerous mask in existence although he never told anyone of his quest. Just as he never stated his real intentions he never mentioned his real name or the existence of his tribe. Instead he created his new persona, discarding the title of Chieftain and his given name, Oni, and began to call himself the Happy Mask Salesman. He kept a smile on his face no matter the situations he found himself in and concealed his secrets under lock and key behind the mask.


End file.
